


I Felt It All

by unsafe_business_practices



Series: i'd rather be here than falling off the pages of history [2]
Category: the bright sessions
Genre: F/M, First Time, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23370628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsafe_business_practices/pseuds/unsafe_business_practices
Summary: It's taken a while to get here, but there is no place Sam would rather be.
Relationships: Samantha Barnes/Mark Bryant
Series: i'd rather be here than falling off the pages of history [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680913
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	I Felt It All

The first time they try, it's not too long after Mark got back, really settled in. They had talked about it before, Sam had brought it up over dinner. She knew Mark had other partners, a couple long term but mostly shorter ones. She knew he lost his virginity to a girl named Corrine his junior year of high school. He knew she still had her v card, tucked away next to her shiny new driver's license.

It was not as though she was hoarding it, or saving it for a rainy day, it just, never happened for her before Mark. Just like kissing never happened for her before Mark.

Sometimes she thought about how despite having spent years in a coma, completely missing out on life, Mark has lived more than her. He'd kissed girls and boys and had relationships and gotten into fights and gotten wasted at a party and sung karaoke and made a fool of himself and actually  _ lived  _ his life. Sam felt like she was playing catch-up with him. Her life had been stagnant since she was fifteen. Now in her twenties, she was just trying to do what most people had accomplished in high school and college.

Sam had learned that she really likes kissing. It's strange. When she tried to explain it to herself the thoughts felt wrong and dissonant to the actual feelings. Intellectually, kissing should be gross. But it wasn't.

They'd been doing a lot of kissing. And touching. Because It was one of the reasons she brought it up.

So when she brought it up, she thought she was ready.

She was wrong.

Her trip to the opening of a Sears store in Chicago lasted three hours. When she came back, Mark was fully clothed again, sitting on his side of the bed in his pajamas, stroking Darwin and reading a book. He put it down and set the cat on the ground before crossing the room to her, wrapping her thick bathrobe around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder as he pulled her in. "I thought I was ready."

"It's fine Sam."

"No. It's not. I should be ready. I want it, I do but-"

"Sam," his voice is soft but firm and he enunciates it with a squeeze of her shoulders. "You don't have to speed run through life."

"But I'm so behind."

"Its not a race. It's a journey. Okay? We just need to go at the right speed for you."

Sam nods into his shoulder.

“You should get some sleep,” Mark said, releasing her and steering her towards the bed.

Sam climbs in and sees that Mark is still standing there, not moving to get in with her.

“Are you going to-”

“No, I can sleep on the couch tonight. I was just making sure you got back okay.”

Sam nodded and watched him leave, closing the door behind her.

She tried not to let the fact that Mark didn’t want to stay with her after she failed so spectacularly get to her. She failed at that too.

The second time was planned. The thought was that knowing when it would happen would alleviate the stress of it all.

Instead it increased it.

Sam spent the entire day obsessing over it until Mark finally called it off.

She ruined it once again. 

When it finally happens, it isn't planned or discussed. Really, Sam feels talked out on the subject. For someone who hated facing his own feelings, Mark sure was insistent on Sam facing hers. She comes around to the conclusion that she doesn't want to know, but that she wants it.

She's hardly paying attention to the show on the TV. It's a historical drama that makes her want to throw a history textbook at the screen, or at least the remote. Instead, she is letting Mark distract her with his mouth.

His teeth pull at her lips as his hand presses into her waist, fingers tracing the bottom edge of her hiked up shirt. When the pads of his fingers brush her stomach, a shiver shoots through her body like an arrow.

This is comfortable for Sam. This is something that they've done practically every night. Normally with the same din of a banal show playing in the background.

Perhaps that's why Mark decides to slip his hand up higher to trace beneath the curve of her breast and his mouth lower, past her jaw and to her neck.

He stays there for a while, making light half circles beneath her breast and sucking on her skin. Then his fingers find her nipple, rubbing them in circles until they stiffen.

Sam wants to tell him to speed up, to slow down, to stop, to never stop. Mark takes his own time though. He is slow and meticulous in a way she hasn’t seen him with other things. She’s argued with him about whether doubling the temperature on cookies would halve the cooking time. On the other hand, she’s watched him take half an hour to set up the perfect shot, and then even more time to edit it just the way he wanted. Sam supposes he only bothers to take the time with things he really loves (not that he doesn’t like cookies, just that he likes eating them more than baking them).

It’s not really a surprise then, this realization she has as he presses a kiss at her navel. 

Mark loves her. 

He’s said it, they both have, but sometimes Sam finds herself worrying about whether he loves her or the fact that she’s the one who saved him.

His fingers brush her sides and she jerks, nearly kicking him and giggles.

He pauses, shocked for a moment, just staring at her.

Sam slaps a hand over her mouth.

“Sorry. You were taking this so seriously and I just broke it and-”

Mark shakes his head and sits back so that he is no longer hovering above her.

“Sam, it’s fine. You’re allowed to laugh. I was just trying to, you know, keep you calm and comfortable.”

He seems very concerned about it all and she pauses. She had spent so long blaming herself for their inability to move on to the next step that she hadn’t thought about what Mark was feeling about the whole thing.

Did he feel like he had made her uncomfortable? Like he had pushed her too hard, too fast? Is that why he had slept on the couch after she got back from the past that night? Because he was afraid he was pressuring her?

He hadn’t. He had been so patient and perfect and good and - and everything she could have hoped for. It was Sam that couldn’t get it right.

“Hey-hey, I can see your mind working. Do you want to stop? We can stop.”

Mark is looking at her with such concern that Sam can’t help but sit up and cup his face and press her own lips against him.

“I don’t want to stop.”

Mark raises his eyebrows and then pulls the back into place.

“I-good, that’s good.”

He smiles again.

“So shall I?”

Sam nods, letting herself fall back onto the cushions of the couch.

When he starts up again, he starts at the beginning, but he doesn’t move as slowly this time. He looks up at her when his fingers hook into her sweatpants and she bites her lip and nods.

His mouth traces the scattered stretch marks on her thighs, presses against the bit of extra fat that hugs the insides and rubs together when she wears shorts. She laughs when she looks down at herself and sees that she’s wearing polka-dot cotton panties that are so old the elastic is barely hanging on.

“God if I had known, I would have worn something more sexy than these.”

Mark lifts his head and rolls his eyes.

“I can’t imagine anything more sexy than this.”

He lets his eyes roll over her body and then back up to her face as if to make a point. Sam blushes and he smirks as his point is well received. That smirk, the stupid smirk makes her heart pound in her chest, beating against her ribcage.

When Mark presses his lips back into her inner thigh and his breath brushes against her wet underwear making her suck in a breath, Sam feels sexy. Sexy enough that she hooks her own fingers into her underwear to slip them off down her legs. Mark takes a moment to catch on to what she’s doing, but when he does, he’s helping her lift her legs to get them off and he’s tossing them off to the side.

“How do you want to-?” he starts to ask.

“Mouth first, please.” Sam chokes out, surprised at herself. She should feel embarrassed to ask, to be so open with what she wants, with a part of this she’s been envisioning for so long.

But Mark just grins at her forwardness.

“How do you feel about fingers too?”

Sam finds herself nodding vigorously.

Mark starts with his mouth, with his tongue more specifically, and then he presses his lips against her and sucks and she feels all thoughts fly from her head. The only thing in the world is Mark’s mouth.

She hardly feels it when he presses in the first finger, too distracted by it all. Then he adds a second and starts spreading, pulling, and Sam can’t help but gasp. She grabs the back of the couch to steady herself and the edge of the coffee table.

Her own voice hits her ears and she’s not particularly certain what she’s saying, broken as it is with her panting but it is something of a mix of his name and want and nonsensical words.

Then she feels hot all over and every muscle in her body is contracting.

When thoughts return to her, she's staring at Mark. She blushes which is stupid after what he just.

"That was-" she bites her lip rather than finish the sentence.

Mark laughs. "Good?"

"Yeah. Good."

"That's good."

"So we can-we can do this again right?"

Mark laughs again and nods.

"Yeah. Whenever you want."

She sits up and arranges her legs beneath her so that her t-shirt covers most of them.

"Good, cause there's a lot more I've been meaning to try."


End file.
